


Come and pin me down

by chezamanda



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Bondage, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, First Time, Frottage, Grinding, Kissing, Manhandling, Office, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Request Meme, Rough Sex, Safer Sex, Subspace, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, pinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 23:24:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2288435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chezamanda/pseuds/chezamanda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha Romanoff always gets what she wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come and pin me down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Crazy4Orcas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy4Orcas/gifts).



> Written for crazy4orcas for [this fic meme (currently closed as of this posting)](http://chezamanda.tumblr.com/post/81777754120/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you-a) [#10 … pinning the other against a wall].
> 
> Thanks to Pamela for the beta work, as always.
> 
> Title from Natalia Kills' ["Problem."](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ZrZI6OmezE)

The first time that Clint had pinned Natasha had been nothing more than an accident brought on by some turbulence. They were in the back of a quinjet after evac when the craft hit an air pocket. Clint had been going through a bag of gear across from where Natasha stood, and then he was suddenly on top of her, pressing her against the metal hull. Surprised, Natasha had stared at him and found he looked just as shocked as she felt. The discomfort of the hard wall behind her was muted by the residual pain the rest of her body was in from the fight on the ground, but she discovered that Clint’s solid body quickly made her forget all about it.

Apologizing, Clint made sure she wasn’t injured before he moved away to finish what he had been doing. She stood there a moment, wondering what that odd feeling had been, and then secured herself into one of the seats. The thoughts remained with her for the rest of the flight home.

They never seemed to quite go away after that, always circling back around just when she thought she had gotten over them. At night, Natasha would lie in bed, her brain turning over every detail of Clint’s body. The weight of it against her frame, that flare of what she had come to realize was desire and excitement, and how much she wanted to relive that feeling. Their partnership was only a couple years old, but Natasha knew that she wanted Clint as more than just a colleague. He had earned himself a starring role in her fantasy life over the past few months, and that incident had only cemented her need to make it a reality.

With that in mind, Natasha devised a plan.

* * *

It was a paperwork day for them. Being a spy might sound intriguing to a civilian, but they don’t realize that there are all kinds of forms and reports to be finished following a mission. Natasha had come into the office with just a touch more makeup than she usually wore. The fitted black top she had chosen successfully caught Clint’s eye when she removed her leather jacket that morning. 

Usually, Natasha was quiet when she worked, to the point that Clint sometimes complained she was too quiet. Today was different - she made a point to sit directly in his line of sight and draw attention to herself with little hums and taps of her short, newly manicured nails against the edge of the tablet she was using. The second that she noticed Clint glance up from his monitor, she knew things were moving along exactly as planned.

“Tasha, c’mere and look at something for me,” Clint asked, scrubbing a hand through his hair.

Leaning over his shoulder, Natasha made a point to brush her tits against him as she read the screen. She felt his body stiffen beneath her, back and shoulders squaring up, and he drew in a sharp breath. A good sign, she thought to herself with a smirk. With one arm, she reached around him to peck at a couple keys, bringing up another program that he would need to use. She could have just as easily told him how to bring it up, but where was the fun in that?

“Thanks,” he mumbled, hunching back over his keyboard.

“Anytime,” she said, her voice a low purr. 

Natasha moved over to the side of the desk and sat down, crossing one leg over the other as she watched him finish up his report. She noticed the scrap of paper that he kept glancing at while typing, and picked it up.

“Hey, I was using that,” he said, unsuccessfully trying to take it from her hands.

Holding it out of his reach, Natasha grinned. It appeared to be notes scribbled in his blocky, chickenscratch handwriting. Clint made another grab for it, but she was too fast for him, and held it behind her back. She arched away from him when he stood, leaning over her to get at the piece of paper, and she could feel her heart begin to race with excitement.

“This isn’t funny. Give it back,” he complained. 

“I don’t know why you need notes for a field report. You were there,” she countered playfully. “Unless your memory isn’t as good as it used to be, old man.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, completely unamused. “Cute.” 

Natasha slipped away from him, still holding his paper as she dashed around to the other side of the desk. Every time Clint tried to get it away from her, she quickly sidestepped him, her size an advantage in this game of keepaway. Perhaps it wasn’t the most direct route to getting what she wanted out of Clint, but she was enjoying the hell out of it. 

Clint, however, was growing steadily more annoyed with her. 

"Godammit, Tasha," Clint growled, pushing her back against the wall with both hands on her shoulders after catching her trying to get away again. "What is with you today?"

Natasha opened her mouth to fire back something snappy, but her thoughts were otherwise occupied by his large hands holding her in place. Heat filled the small gap between their bodies, making her want to squirm, but she managed to keep her otherwise calm demeanor. She watched his annoyed expression shift into something more curious. He was trying to read her face, but she knew how to keep herself from giving more away than she wanted to. If he could read her mind, he would see the hundreds of ways she imagined this encounter playing out.

Eyes trained on hers, Clint pressed against her shoulders a little harder, and she sucked in a sharp breath. The faintest grin flashed across his mouth. He was onto her now. 

"So this is what you want?” he asked as though he knew the answer already.

She whimpered, nodding in response.

Clint's leg had wedged between her thighs in the shuffle, and she could feel it just barely brushing against the juncture of her legs, driving her absolutely crazy. The friction was just a breath against her, not even close to being enough for her. As they kissed, she bent her knees ever so slightly until she was flush against his thigh. The natural movement of their bodies made it easy for her to get the leverage she needed to ride him. That first touch was electric. Sparks ran through her veins, exploding somewhere behind her eyes as she ground against his solid upper leg. 

"Jesus, Tasha," he panted, his lips brushing over hers as he spoke. "Gonna come just by rubbing off on me?"

His words made her breath catch and her face go hot. Tilting his head, his mouth moved to her ear where he worried gently at the soft round of flesh.

"C'mon, baby," he purred. "Wanna see you come."

Natasha didn’t like to be called “baby” or any other pet name, but hearing it from Clint made her gasp. Part of her hated that he had her so flustered and downright needy. She never gave up this kind of control to men, but this wasn't some mark she was distracting with her curves. This was Clint. He was doing this to her - he _had_ been doing this to her for longer than she wanted to admit to herself. She knew she could let him take the reins. 

Clint shifted so that his thigh was angled higher, nearly straightened and it was enough to make her gasp loudly. The friction was too good and her own legs began to tremble. Slowly sliding his hands up her arms, Clint pinned them above her head. She was completely vulnerable to him in this position.

She loved it.

Biting down hard on her lip, she canted her hips frantically and chased that building tension she felt deep inside. She tested his grip and found that he only tightened his hands around her wrists in response to the movement. Lust curled hotly within her as she met his eyes. What she didn’t expect to find was the same desperation that she felt mirrored on his face. 

That was what undid her. Natasha shuddered apart beneath Clint’s firm grasp. She gasped for breath as her orgasm overtook her, stronger than she had ever had with another partner. 

“God, baby,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “You’re so beautiful when you lose control like that.”

This kind of vulnerability was still foreign to her, but Clint’s arms were warm and comforting, and she eased into his embrace rather than pulling away. Her knees felt weak beneath her, and she was glad for the stability he provided. She sighed when his mouth found hers again, and she could feel her arousal surging again within her body. 

“I think it’s time for us to call it a day,” he told her, nipping lightly at her bottom lip.

She whined at the idea of having to wait for more. “We could do more here,” she said, giving him her best seductive look. “I promise I’ll stay quiet.”

“Baby, what I have planned for you will make that impossible,” he said with a wolfish grin.

The air left her lungs all at once, and she felt lightheaded at the prospect of Clint making her scream. They couldn’t get out of the building and into his car fast enough after that. She was pretty sure he was going to get a ticket trying to beat mid-afternoon traffic in Manhattan, but somehow he managed to get them to his building without catching the attention of the NYPD. He was on her as soon as the freight elevator door closed, his stocky frame trapping her against the wall and his hand making quick work of her zipper. His fingers found the hardened bud of her clit almost immediately, making her cry out in surprise. 

“Oh fuck, Tasha,” he groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “Are you wet because of me?”

“ _Y-yes_ ,” she sobbed. 

He teased at her clit until she was writhing and begging him to make her come again, but the elevator came to a halt before she could even get close to climaxing. Swearing, Natasha let him lead her into his apartment with her pants undone and his fingers covered in her slick. Every step felt like an eternity, but she couldn’t have walked more than ten feet from the elevator to his door. Excitement thrummed through her body like a live wire.

As soon as they were inside the apartment, Clint was tearing the clothes off of her body, his mouth fused to hers. She was drowning, her control slipping away from her with every passing second, and she couldn’t imagine wanting anything more than this. Before she could get a chance to get at his belt, he had his mouth on her breasts, making her squirm beneath him. 

His stubble scratched at her sensitive skin while the hot, velvety-wet swipe of his tongue laved at one peaked nipple. Hot arousal surged at the center of her and clung wetly to her inner thighs, her clit throbbing and begging for attention. She gripped at his hair, pushing downward in the hope that he would follow her movement and put his mouth to good use somewhere else.

Instead of dropping to his knees in front of her, Clint pulled away with a smug grin that made her want to slap him. Taking her hand, he led Natasha through the studio apartment to his bed that was situated in the corner, and manhandled her onto it. She wriggled in his hold, her heart pounding against her ribcage.

“Tell me what you want, Tasha,” he ordered, the low, authoritative tone in his voice making her shiver.

“You.”

His grip tightened on her, but wasn’t painful. “You’ve already got me. What do you want me to do?”

 _Everything_ , she thought. The desire to have his mouth between her thighs was still going strong, however. Grinning, Natasha brought her legs up to wrap around his body in an attempt to pull him closer, but he held fast and unmoved.

“I said, ‘tell me,’” he repeated. 

Clint’s hands moved her arms beneath her back as he gazed down at her, waiting for her answer. Her face felt flushed and her mouth suddenly dry. No one had ever looked at her the way Clint was. Plenty had looked at her like they wanted to consume her, but he had been the only one whose gaze was filled as much with lust as it was with adoration and need. Swallowing hard, she finally found her words again.

“I want your tongue buried in my pussy,” she told him, pitching her voice low.

Natasha could hear the way his breath caught in the back of his throat before he recovered. She dropped one leg down to the mattress to give him better access and allow herself a little more leverage. Without a moment’s hesitation, his mouth was on her cunt, tongue licking and teasing at her folds, just barely grazing against her aching clit. It dipped into the mouth of her pussy just for a second, tracing the edges with the tip, and she bucked up hard against his face, whining for more.

“God, you taste so fucking good, baby,” he panted, her slick shining on his mouth. The image struck a chord with her possessive side. 

She opened her mouth to reply, but then he buried his tongue between her thighs again, and all she could do was moan and arch into it. Long and skilled, his tongue knew exactly where she wanted it to go. His fingers soon joined his tongue, sliding into her cunt and making her cry out as they found that perfect spot. This is how she was going to die, she was certain of it.

Her body trembled beneath the onslaught, leaving her only hanging onto her sanity by a thread. She was bucking against him so much that he had to bring one hand up to steady her hips. The other hand shifted, big enough to hold both of her wrists by itself. Each breath punched its way from her lungs and she could feel desire coiling tightly at the base of her. 

"FuckfuckFUCK," she cried out, slapping her hand down against the bed. 

The climax tore through her lightning-fast and hard. Clint held her together as it ran its course, leaving her feeling strangely weak. No one had ever managed to make her come quite as strongly except for herself. She wasn't sure what to make of this urge she felt to wrap herself around Clint rather than roll away from him as she did so many others. 

He let her down easy, first releasing her wrists, and then the rest of her body before he moved to lay beside her. Heart still thudding in her ears, Natasha rolled towards him and tucked her head beneath his chin. It felt good but her mind was too foggy to really examine why. To her relief, he didn't question it either and held her against him. 

"...wow," she finally croaked out after a while. 

Clint looked down at her and brushed the muss of hair away from her face. He was smiling in that soft way that always made her feel warm inside. She shifted a little and could feel he was hard, perhaps still hard. His cheeks flushed even deeper as her hand wrapped around the outline of his cock through his thick pants. 

"Tasha, you don't have-"

"I want to," she interrupted him. 

Getting Clint naked was how Natasha imagined unwrapping a Christmas gift would feel. Instead of a bicycle or a toy, she uncovered a very attractive, well built Clint Barton. Her mouth actually watered at the sight of his cock, standing up thick and eager for her attention. She had seen him shirtless before and noted the strongly muscled upper body he had maintained over the years with appreciation. Having everything laid out for her made her almost giddy, unsure of where to start because she just wanted it all. 

“Condoms?”

Clint gestured towards the bedside table. “Top drawer,” he said.

Natasha draped herself across Clint’s upper body as she reached into the drawer, her face right above Clint’s. Coyly, she drew her bottom lip between her teeth and sat back to unwrap the foil packet. He let out a husky laugh.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

Clint scrubbed a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “Just never thought we’d get this far, I guess.”

“Well,” she said, leaning over him. “We did.”

What began as a light brushing of her lips against his quickly escalated into something searing and passionate. His hand came up to bury itself in her messy curls, and she had to steady herself to keep from falling on top of him. The faint taste of her arousal lingered on his mouth. 

All too eager to have Clint inside of her, Natasha made quick work of the condom and positioned herself in his lap. Her head dropped back as she took him in with one swift movement, a loud groan pouring from her lips. He was big, and she let out a shuddery breath once she was fully seated. Clint brought his hands up to pet at her thighs as though he were unsure of where to put them until she took hold of both with a comforting squeeze. They stared at each other for a moment, letting the reality of the situation sink in.

This was really happening.

Settling her hands on his chest, Natasha gave an experimental roll of her hips, and hissed sharply as her pussy did its best to accommodate his cock. As turned on as she was, his dick was thicker than what she was used to. It stretched her walls, even the slightest movement aching burningly sweet inside of her. Pleasure curled around her spine, and she whimpered as she began to set her pace.

“Oh fuck, Tasha,” Clint rasped out.

A little twinge of pride pinched in her stomach when she saw the look on his face and heard the strangled groan that escaped him. His gorgeous blue-green eyes were completely blown out, and he looked like he’d never experienced anything better in his life. Nice to know the feeling was mutual.

His hands tightened on her hips, not controlling her movements but just holding there and letting her drive. Drawing figure eights with her hips, Natasha could already feel the beginnings of a second orgasm deep inside of her. She forced his hands up to her breasts and leaned into the rough warmth of his palms as she rode his cock. It seemed as though Clint was a very quick learner when it came to knowing how to touch her. His thumbs brushed over the sensitive tips of her breasts, rolling and pinching them just this side of too hard. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” she panted, finding herself riding that fine line of orgasm within a matter of moments. It was good. It was so good, but she needed more. “ _Clint, please_.”

“What, baby?” he rumbled in that voice that made her shiver.

“Please make me come again,” she said, whining desperately in the back of her throat. 

Before Natasha knew it, she was on her knees, his arms holding her hands above her head with every inch of his body pressed against her back. Her heart pounded against her ribcage when that brief sense of panic hit before arousal took over. She was hot and icy cold at the same time, trembling in his hold, but deep down she knew that she was safe with him.

“That’s it,” he said, his voice a deep purr in her ear as she settled beneath him. “That’s my good girl.”

Closing her eyes, Natasha dropped her head between her arms and took a breath. Submission was still very novel, but having Clint be the one to dominate her, even in this very basic manner, was perfect. He didn’t push her beyond that point, he patiently bided his time as she made herself comfortable in that headspace. The world came into a sharp focus: the pressure of his weight on top of her body, the feel of the bedding beneath her skin, the sound of her breathing, and the thudding of her heart. 

Natasha rubbed against Clint’s cock, mewling loudly and throwing a heated look over her shoulder at him. His hands slid up her arms, dragging down the length of her back until they came to rest on the swell of her hips. 

“God, baby,” he breathed, deliberately grinding his hard cock against her. “So ready for me to hold you down and fuck that tight little pussy.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” she gasped as he teased her. “Oh fuck, yes. Please, please… _ah_!”

With that, Clint slid his cock home in one smooth thrust. Any teasing or desire to prolong this seemed to go right out the window because he was pounding into her cunt hard and fast, making her hips ache. He growled in her ear how wonderful she felt on his dick, and she thought she might pass out just from hearing him like this.

His hand slipped between her legs, rubbing mercilessly at her swollen clit, and Natasha sobbed. She dug her nails into the bedspread, trying to hold onto her sanity, but it was no use. He had her right where he wanted her.

“Oh god, I’m gonna come,” she gasped. “Harder, harder…”

The tension that had been coiling inside of her suddenly sprang loose, and she was coming so hard that she could only let out a hoarse cry. Clint didn’t stop even as she convulsed around his thick cock. It took her orgasm-fogged brain to realize that he was trying to get himself off now, and she couldn’t imagine wanting anything more than to feel him come inside of her. Turning her head, Natasha could just see his face, beautifully tense as he watched him fuck her.

Clint came like a shot, shouting her name as his cock pulsed inside of her cunt. She shivered and wished that she could feel him filling up her pussy with his come all hot and thick, marking her from the inside. No one else could have her like this. The thought was shoved to the back of her mind when she felt him go still, pressing his forehead against her shoulder. 

“God, Tasha,” Clint said, sounding dazed and out of breath.

He pressed a kiss to the back of her shoulder before gingerly pulling out, and Natasha whimpered at the loss. Rolling over, she watched as he wandered into the bathroom for a moment, and smiled to herself as she wrapped his charcoal grey sheet around her. This was by no means her first time, but the newness of being with Clint made almost feel like it. 

As it turned out, Clint was a cuddler. The second he returned from the bathroom, he curled up beside her, burying his face in the crook of her neck and wrapping her up in his arms. Laughing, Natasha angled her head for a sweet, lingering kiss that had her toes curling. 

“You’re perfect, you know that?” he said, stroking her face. 

She shook her head. “I am far from perfect.”

Clint kissed her again. “No, you are,” he told her, the serious look on his face melting into a sly smile. “Next time you want me to get all toppy, just be a little more direct.”

"Mm," she hummed, going in for another kiss. "I can definitely do direct."


End file.
